Home Is Where the Heart Is
by Shibalyfe
Summary: A year and a half in the life of Ron and Hermione. Written for The Houses Competition: Y2R7.


House: Gryffindor

Position: Prefect 1 stand-in

Category: Themed 2

Prompt: [Setting] A flat in a run down block in the middle of a city.

Word Count: 2405 words, excluding header, author notes, and title.

Beta: Tigger and CK

A/N: This was written for The Houses Competition, Y2R7.

* * *

Home is Where the Heart is

* * *

Ron was dragging Hermione through the city. Her blue trench coat  
was billowing behind her and she had to hold down her hat to prevent it from  
flying off her head. She shifted her eyes nervously as she took in the dark  
alleys, the garbage littering the streets, and the graffiti painting all the  
walls. She hoped they would be arriving at their destination soon.

Ron had promised her a surprise, but she was starting to get  
nervous as they moved further and further into the heart of the city.

"Here it is!" Ron announced.

He waved his hand in triumph towards a brick apartment building.  
The cement steps were crumbling and the light on the porch was flickering on  
and off. Weeds surrounded the building but Ron had the biggest grin adorning  
his face.

He blushed slightly when he caught Hermione staring at him but  
continued up the steps. Once he shouldered open the door, he grabbed Hermione's  
hands again and dragged her up the rickety stairs, each step creaking. Hermione  
was certain at least one of them was going to collapse under their weight.

They reached the third floor and he pulled Hermione down the hall  
and deposited her in front of a painted door. The white paint was chipped and  
peeling and one number was falling off. She looked from the door to Ron's  
delighted face and scrunched up her nose. What was going on?

He rummaged in his robe pockets and pulled out a key. He unlocked  
the door and pulled Hermione through the threshold. He was examining her face  
and dropped her hand when he noticed she wasn't mirroring his excited reaction.

"I know it isn't much," he whispered.

"What?" Hermione asked. "I don't understand."

"Hermione," he said as he dropped to the ground.

He grabbed for her hand, posed on one knee, and rubbed her smooth  
palm with his clammy one. Her eyes widened and tears began to shimmer in her  
eyes.

"Hermione," he started again, "I know you deserve so much more  
than this. I know you deserve a castle and I know this doesn't compare to that  
but," one hand fished back into his robe pocket and pulled out a velvet box, "I  
want to give you the world, Hermione and I don't want to live a single day  
without you in my world. Please say you'll be my wife?"

Hermione threw herself at Ron. Tears were pouring from her eyes  
now and she couldn't stop them. She was smiling and giggling, feeling like the  
luckiest girl in the world.

Ron was holding her close, kissing every inch of her skin. He kept  
repeating two words over and over again. Each time his lips touched her, the  
words danced across her skin: _my  
wife._

* * *

Hermione looked down at the small, golden band that was glimmering  
in the sunlight from the sun's rays that were thrown across the room from the  
broken windows. She couldn't help but feel giddy every time she saw her ring.  
She was going to be Ron's wife, _  
finally_.

Her happy mood did not match the dirty atmosphere of the flat she  
was standing in. She tore her eyes from her ring and surveyed the room.

The white rug was a dark grey with stains, the ceilings were  
covered in cobwebs, and the broken windows had smoke stains on them. The  
appearance of the room didn't dampen her spirits, though; there was nothing a  
little love and hard work couldn't fix, and she and Ron had nothing but love to  
give.

* * *

"Hermione!" Ron whined, "I don't understand why we have to paint  
by hand. Why can't we do this with magic? I've had a long day at work; it'll  
make it go faster and then we can do… other things…"

He threw a sly wink at her and went in to kiss her.

She shrieked and ran away.

"Ron, we have to get this done or the paint will drip and the  
walls will dry weird!"

He rolled his eyes but continued painting. "Why aren't we doing  
this by magic, again?"

"Because Ron," Hermione sighed, "Fixing this home the Muggle way  
will make it more personal. We, with our own two hands, would have created this  
place into the loving and wonderful home it is going to be."

Ron turned to her and smiled. "I love when you talk like that."

"Talk like what?" she mumbled, turning to hide her blush.

"When you talk so passionately about our future. It makes me want  
to start it as soon as possible."

He set his paintbrush down in the paint tray and made his way over  
to Hermione. He wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his chin on her shoulders.

"I can't wait to see this place all finished and move in with you."

"Me too," Hermione whispered, leaning back into his embrace.

"Can't you just picture our Christmas stockings hanging over the  
fireplace?"

He spun her around and faced them towards the kitchen.

"Us sitting there eating dinner, talking about our days, and us  
sitting out on the balcony drinking coffee in the mornings?" he whispered in  
her ear.

"Oh Ron, it is going to be perfect."

* * *

Hermione surveyed the progress of their flat; it was coming along  
nicely. The walls were painted and the stained carpet had been removed and  
replaced with wooden floors. They had replaced the cracked windows with new  
ones and the effect brightened up the whole room. The light reflected off of  
the newly painted blue walls and Hermione could picture nothing but happiness  
in the room.

The bright flat contradicted the grey dreary alley it was located  
in, and while Hermione was hesitant of the location at first, she had grown to  
love it. This part of the city, although in the heart of the city, didn't get  
much traffic. It seemed that most people avoided this block because of the  
graffiti and the worn-down appearance, which was perfect for Hermione.

Of course, she could still hear the Muggle trains and the sounds  
of some traffic, but that's what she liked about the city. The noises of the  
constant hustle and bustle of the city reminded her that life was moving on,  
life was continuing to thrive.

While the block looked scary, the people were all very nice. The  
few neighbors that she had met had all been wonderful and welcoming. She had  
even met another witch who worked at the Ministry. They often ran into each  
other at the coffee counter, and they had promised to do dinner soon.

She looked around the room again, picturing the finished progress.  
She could already picture the finished space, the sofa her and Ron had bought  
together right in front of the fire, the beautiful quilt his mother had knitted  
them folded along the back of it. The table her mother had given her in the  
corner of the kitchen. The happy pictures of her and Ron hanging along the  
walls, recording their lives together. She reserved the spot above the  
fireplace for the picture of their wedding.

She almost started crying again picturing all of it. She and Ron  
would be happy here.

* * *

They had started moving things into the flat but they had agreed  
to not live in it until after their wedding and that day was finally here.

Hermione couldn't wait to finally go to 'their' home after the  
wedding. This was the beginning of a wonderful start to her and Ron's life  
together. Their marriage, their home, and eventually their family.

She stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her face was covered  
with lace and the white dress accented her features perfectly. Her bushy hair  
was loose and she was holding a single rose in her hand.

She hadn't wanted a big wedding like Ginny; she had wanted  
something simple. She and Ron couldn't afford anything lavish anyway. All of  
their spare money went into their flat and neither of them made much in their  
starter jobs, but it was still perfect. Everything about this day was perfect.

She heard the start of the piano and the soft melodic notes filled  
her ears. She almost cried from happiness. It was time.

* * *

Ron was carrying her up the stairs, his strong arms cradling her  
to his chest. Her white dress was flowing around them and Ron tripped on the  
white lace a few times, each time causing Hermione to giggle.

He trudged up the stairs and made his towards their apartment  
building. He almost dropped her while he tried to fish out the keys to their  
home in his suit pocket. He finally pulled out the metal key attached to a  
leather keychain Hermione had given him as her wedding gift. She had asked  
Molly to make it for him. It had the words 'Our First Home' and their initials,  
and on the other side it had their flat number. She had a matching one in her  
clutch.

She heard the click of the lock unlocking and her heart began to  
work into overdrive. This was it. The moment she had been waiting for. The  
start of their lives.

She looked up at him and smiled.

"Ready?" she asked.

"With you, I always am."

He threw open the door and carried her over the threshold. He gave  
her a toothy grin and smiled down at her.

"I carried you over the threshold; it's official now, we're  
married."

"What?" Hermione whispered, confusion lacing her words.

"I read it. It's a Muggle tradition to carry a bride over the  
threshold." He laid her down on the new couch and kissed her cheeks.

She giggled. "That's a very old tradition, but very sweet,  
nonetheless."

"I want to do any tradition that means you are officially mine."

She giggled and kissed him.

Their lives together were beginning.

* * *

Hermione had her feet up on the couch and a book open on her lap.  
The fire was crackling and Ron was cooking in the kitchen.

She had to stop herself from giggling as she heard a string of  
curse words coming from the kitchen.

It was their one year anniversary and Ron had insisted on cooking  
her a nice dinner. Ron didn't normally cook and she had take-out on speed dial.  
The few times he had attempted to cook in the past had ended with the fire  
alarm going off and burnt chicken. Ron even had trouble using the Muggle  
microwave in their flat, but he had insisted that Hermione not enter the  
kitchen. He wanted to 'wine and dine' her, he had said, another Muggle tradition.

Hermione didn't really know where he was getting his information  
on these traditions as they were usually off. It was still cute, though.

Once, he had graffitied their names together on the side of the  
building. She had yelled at him for vandalism, but he had claimed that it was  
his way of showing the world that she was his; it was a 'grand gesture.' She  
had rolled her eyes at that but gave him a kiss anyway and told him she loved  
him.

Every time her eyes caught sight of their names together on their building,  
it filled her with happiness. They truly were together forever and she couldn't  
be more grateful.

At first, living together had been rough. She hadn't expected just  
how messy Ron was, but they had learned to communicate and create a schedule  
that worked for both of them. They had worked together to make their lives  
perfect, and she couldn't have asked for anything more. She knew they were  
ready for the next chapter.

She heard a loud bang from the kitchen and was startled from her  
reverie.

"Ron," she asked as she began to make her way to the kitchen, "do  
you need help?"

"Nope, and I told you not to come anywhere near the kitchen. Sit  
that beautiful arse back down on the couch and let me take care of you."

She rolled her eyes but did as she was told. She sat on the couch  
and read until he called for her again.

He was setting cups on the table when she entered the kitchen. He  
pulled out her chair for her and made a big show of placing her paper napkin on  
her lab, like it was a fancy restaurant.

He was wearing a 'kiss the cook' apron that was sporting new  
stains, and his hair was sticking out on all ends. He leaned over her to light  
the single candle on their small table and kissed her.

"Now remember, love, that you didn't marry me for my cooking  
skills."

He placed a grilled cheese sandwich in front of her, one side  
charred, and sat down across from her. He smiled at her shyly before biting  
into his own black sandwich.

He immediately spat it out.

"Gah, this is awful!" he cried. "I'm sorry, Hermione; I tried, I  
really did."

"I know, Ron and it was very sweet of you. That is why I would  
like to do something grand for you."

"What?" he asked, his eyes glistening with wonder.

Ron had never lost his childish excitement. Anytime she had a  
surprise for him, he could hardly contain his excitement. She almost thought  
about making him sweat for a little longer but she didn't think she could keep  
it a secret from him.

"Well, I wanted to give you a tradition, one that claims you as  
mine."

"What?" Ron questioned her. He grabbed for her hand and began to  
shake it in excitement, "What Hermione? Tell me!"

She laughed at his impatience.

"Well, I want to have your children."

"You will, Hermione," Ron said, confusion beginning to cloud his  
excitement.

"No, Ron, I _am_ going to have your babies." She continued to  
laugh at his puzzled expression before drawing out the Muggle test from her  
pocket.

The black 'Pregnant' stood out like a shining star. She watched as  
his face transformed to one of understanding.

He jumped up from his seat and pulled her up with him. He began  
jumping and pulled her to him.

"Hermione, we're having a baby!?"

She was too overwhelmed to speak and could only nod her head enthusiastically.

"Oh Godric, oh Godric!"

She started crying but even her tears couldn't blur the vision of  
Ron glowing with happiness.

The next chapter was here.


End file.
